Forever
by himapapaya
Summary: In which Lovino and Antonio swear to love each other forever. Warning: Suicide.


**A/N: in case you didn't read the summary, i'll warn you again: this story contains copious amounts of angst and character death, so be prepared.**

**warning: murder-suicide**

* * *

Why?

Why, why, _why?_

The single word resonated through his mind as he stared at the lifeless body lying face down on the floor, then to the gun in his hand, still smoking from the shot, and back to the man he loved.

Why had he shot him?

* * *

There was no good reason for it. None at all.

Antonio never knew when to shut up. During breakfast, while they worked in the garden, and even at night, there was never a silent moment. He always spoke or sang. And when he spoke, nearly all he proclaimed was his love for Lovino; he was incapable of biting back his tongue, and as a result, he told him everything - how beautiful he was, how much he loved him, how he couldn't bear to be without him.

And Lovino hated it.

He hated it because he knew that, someday, likely someday soon, they would be separated. The sudden rushes of pain through his entire body, the horrible coughing that always led to bloodstains on his hands and clothing, and the moments where all breath left him told him. Though he had not told anyone else (certainly not the Spaniard), he knew for a fact what was happening to him.

He was dying.

The process was slow and for the most part unnoticeable, but he knew. And he knew that Antonio would one day suffer because he was no longer there. He, Lovino Vargas, his _amor_, his _vida,_ his _mundo, _would eventually be gone, and Antonio would be left for years to wallow in the irreversible pain of being without the one he loved, the one he _needed. _Lovino didn't want Antonio to ever suffer, and never, ever, did he want to be the cause of said suffering.

So on this day, Lovino and Antonio had been laying together on their bed, Antonio's arms around Lovino's shoulders as all sorts of praise and words of love and adoration fell from his mouth. The uncontrollable feelings of love that unfurled in Lovino's chest were outdone only by the sickening hole that formed in his stomach, a result of the intolerable guilt he felt. But he had to do this.

As Antonio rambled on, saying _Mi amor, mi querido, eres bonito, eres perfecto, te amo, te amo, _Lovino suddenly couldn't bear it any longer.

"Shut up."

And for once, Antonio was silent, shocked by the smaller man's interjection. The interlude of surprise was only momentary, however, as he began to laugh nervously. "Did… did I say something wrong? _Lo siento, mi vida,_ I didn't-"

"Shut up!" Lovino repeated, screaming now, as he pushed away from the Spaniard and tried his best to ignore his hurt expression as he continued. "All you do is talk and talk and talk! Why can't you ever shut the fuck up?"

"_Pero,_ I thought you liked it when I-"

"No! I hate it! I hate it when you say all that Spanish shit and when you touch me and- and- I just hate everything about you!" He felt the pit in his stomach grow as the lies made Antonio's face (_the face that he'd kissed so many times, the one that he swore to never, ever lie to_) take on an extremely hurt look that Lovino never wanted to see ever again. Still, he pressed on.

"I can't take this shit anymore! I just fucking_ can't!"_ He began rummaging through the drawers (_their_ drawers, the ones they'd shared for years, ever since they'd first moved in together) with his back to the Spaniard. When he spoke next, his voice wasn't just hurt - it was panicked.

"L-Lovino, what are you doing?" Lovino heard footsteps approach him from behind, and just as a warm hand touched his shoulder, his own hand felt the sting of cold metal that told him he'd found what he was looking for.

"Get the fuck away from me!" he screeched, whipping around to press the little black gun against the Spaniard - (_his _Spaniard, _his_ amore, the one he loved so, so much, the one he could never be without).

And Antonio fell completely silent.

He had expected the Italian (_his _Italian, _his_ amor, the one he loved so, so much, the one he could never be without) to be rummaging through the dresser for clothes, not a _gun. _He glanced at Lovino, at the gun's barrel, pointed at his head, and back to the one he loved. Lovino looked angry, furious, even. And whatever had made him so angry, he mused, was all his fault (and that just wouldn't do, _couldn't do,_ because he'd sworn up and down, held the cross in his hands as he said it, that he would do his best to make Lovino happy, _para siempre_, and all he ever wanted in life was Lovino's happiness, even if it came at the expense of his own).

Lovino waited for Antonio to say something - a plea for his life, a promise to be better, _something. _But the Spaniard didn't speak. He merely stood, his gaze fixated on Lovino, and something like determination in his eyes. Finally, he gave a small sigh. A sigh of resignation. As Lovino's finger squeezed the trigger, hesitantly, Antonio whispered, "_Lo siento, mi amor._"

* * *

As the full realization of what had just happened hit him, Lovino let out a scream (of agony, of horror, of _regret_), throwing his gun haphazardly to the side as he sank to the ground next to the Spainard's lifeless body. He was crying hard, bawling, like a young child missing their mother, or a lover who has just been torn away from their partner (only _this was all his fault, he chose to do this, it was all his fault_). His frantic sobs and pleas for forgiveness died down eventually, and as he stared down at his lover's body, unmoving and yet still warm (just like the blood that still trickled from his skull, the blood that was shed for _him_), he knew what he now needed to do.

Standing and taking long, deep breaths, he retrieved the gun from the place he'd thrown it in his fit of agony and made his way back to his Spaniard, laying next to him and kissing the side of his head gently. He then pressed the little metal object to his own head, inhaling deeply. As he pulled the trigger, he whispered to the man lying next to him, "_Ti amo, mi vita._"

* * *

**i haven't written a fanfic in so long omg**

**this is for my friend hannah because she wanted a fanfic where lovi kills antonio and then himself and i was feeling angsty so it was the perfect way to get rid of it **

**also i apologize in advance if any of the spanish or italian was wrong, i'm still learning spanish and my italian is really bad (aka i don't know shit)**

**translations:**

**amor - love (spanish)**

**vida - life (spanish)**

**mundo - world (spanish)**

**"mi amor, mi querido, eres bonito, eres perfecto, te amo, te amo" - "my love, my darling, you're beautiful, you're perfect, i love you, i love you" (spanish)**

**lo siento - i'm sorry (spanish)**

**pero - but (it could also mean something like "however"; spanish)**

**amore - love (italian)**

**para siempre - forever (it could also mean "for always"; spanish)**

**"ti amo, mi vita" - "i love you, my life" (italian)**

**(and in case you were wondering, lovino was dying of lung cancer)**


End file.
